


Heroes Aren’t Born from Happiness

by Rhitta, TheTiredGeneticist



Series: Rose Au [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: A traumatic start but here we go, Dealing with Loss of Limbs, F/F, Multi, Rose is the ultimate baby, Slow recovery, Sombra is the ultimate bro, Widow is the ultimate body pillow, learning to love Amé, this literally is why I went into a coma for three months, very protective Amé, very very Amé
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:09:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22667542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhitta/pseuds/Rhitta, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTiredGeneticist/pseuds/TheTiredGeneticist
Summary: The second arc in the Rose series opens with a whimper and a fever. It’s time to lick our wounds and time for Widowmaker and Rose to begin their recovery.
Relationships: Emily/Lena "Tracer" Oxton, Emily/Lena "Tracer" Oxton/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix, Widowmaker |Amélie Lacroix/Rose Oxton
Series: Rose Au [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630711
Comments: 14
Kudos: 43





	Heroes Aren’t Born from Happiness

The first time she woke up, she was confused. She couldn’t move and people were talking somewhere nearby. She could hear faint music and the hum of machinery. Her left leg throbbed dully and she couldn’t feel her left arm. Her head was _pounding_ and one side of it felt cold. _Had someone buzzed one side of her head?_

She could feel the soft fabric under her, and the weight of the sheet draped over her lower half. Her body felt chilled to the bone but she wasn’t strong enough to shiver. 

Her throat felt dry and she _desperately_ wanted to brush her teeth. 

“There’s _no_ way. It’s too badly damaged. Trying to save her leg will only lead to infection and she _won’t_ survive that. _Look_ at her. She’s going to _die_ if I don’t-“ 

She drifted off again as whoever was speaking walked off, and she let go of her already weak grasp on her consciousness, floating away....

~

The second time she regained awareness she could hear humming and she could smell what she could only describe as a mixture of hospital equipment and vomit. It _wasn’t_ a nice smell. 

“She couldn’t keep it down?”

“ _Non_ , she threw up right after we finished feeding her.”

A sigh.

“Keep trying. Intravenous isn’t enough to keep her alive after all of this. She needs some solid food in her before we see her try to rally. All we can hope for is that she has enough strength to battle this fever.”

She wanted _so_ badly to open her eyes, but they remained stubbornly closed. She couldn’t feel her left leg anymore. 

_Darkness_. 

~

The third time she woke up was when she finally, _actually_ woke up, and it was because she experienced a night terror. 

She was standing in a dark room, cold and decaying and misty. She shivered and tried to rub her left arm but there was nothing there. She heard heavy footsteps and then he found her. The man who did this to her. The man who hated her for simply existing. His eyes were milky white, like a corpse, and the scars she had only ever partially seen were now open and bloody. 

She knew how to outmaneuver him but her legs seemed locked in place, and she couldn’t move or fight back as he tackled her to the floor and his hands locked around her throat, squeezing as she clawed at his arms feebly. Her left hand passed through him and her right hand didn’t do much to help her. 

“This is what you _deserve_. You deserve to _die_.”

~

_“What did you do!?”_

Rose’s eyes shot open and she let out a ragged gasp, her chest _heaving_ as she tried to cling to the nearest object to her. When that object clung back she realized she had grabbed onto _someone_. 

Widowmaker was holding onto her almost _possessively_ as Rose gasped for breath, looking from her to Lena with a _distressed_ look on her face. 

“She was _screaming_. I tried to wake her and she grabbed onto me.” The sniper replied quietly. “She won’t let go, and if I push her off I will only hurt her.”

Rose knew at that point that her arm was gone. She had lost all feeling in it the moment the pulse rounds struck her. The real shock came when she looked down to figure out why she couldn’t feel her obviously damaged leg, and found _nothing_. Just a stump, midway up her thigh. 

Her breath caught in her throat and she made a pained choking sound. 

“Rose it’s ok! You’re gonna be _ok_! Look you even have the prosthetic attachment for your arm and everything!” Lena was quick to try to soothe the distressed brunette, gesturing to her bandaged shoulder. She could indeed feel something there, something hard and mechanical, but it _didn’t_ help to lessen her anxiety. 

“ _Lena_.”

The other Brit stopped when Widow addressed her, clearly _not_ having the patience for her failed attempts to help. 

“Go downstairs and do something. _Anything_. Just _don’t_ do it here. You’re just _upsetting_ her.” 

Being told off for trying to help, and by _Widowmaker_ no less, seemed to break the other brunette a little. The light in her eyes _dimmed_ a bit and her shoulders slumped. 

“I.... okay...” she mumbled, suddenly sullen as she complied, shuffling over to the door and glancing back anxiously at Rose as she huddled into herself. 

“Rose, it will be alright...” the sniper murmured as she moved to gently lay the girl down, moving awkwardly, as though she didn’t even know how to perform the simple action or was afraid of injuring the brunette further. 

Once Rose was comfortable she realized that Widow was a lot more injured than she had been at the university. Her left shoulder was bandaged and Rose could make out new bruises on her neck and face she must have gotten when she saved the smaller woman. 

“I am fine. These are nothing.” The blue skinned woman said as soon as she noticed Rose looking, shrugging as if to prove it, but promptly _flinching_. 

She was _hurt_ because she saved Rose. She was willing to risk injury to save someone she had just met. Rose felt a mixture of gratitude and _guilt_ welling in her chest. 

When the sniper started to stand again, either to leave or to move to another part of the room, Rose _panicked_. She didn’t want to be alone. 

“Wait...”

Her voice was so _feeble_ , so weak that she was sure for a moment that the sniper hadn’t heard her, but the taller woman turned back to her at the plea, her brow furrowing as Rose tried to lift her hand but barely managed to move it before it dropped back. Her energy had been entirely drained by her waking panic and she felt unconsciousness tugging at the edges of her mind as Widowmaker sat on the edge of the bed and, after some hesitation, placed a cool hand over Rose’s and leaned down to hear her better. 

“I.... don’t leave me alone... _please_...” 

She wasn’t expecting the sniper to comply. She was an assassin, an _emotionless_ one from what Lena had told her, so why would she care about comforting someone? 

When the sniper _did_ comply, getting back up and walking around the bed, carefully settling on the other side and allowing Rose to hold her good hand the brunette was surprised, but _grateful_. She didn’t need to be cuddled or coddled, she just needed a hand to hold. 

Widow seemed fine with doing that. Rose let her eyes drop shut for a moment, before a thought occurred to her and she forced them open again. 

“Widow...?” She mumbled, hearing the sniper make a noise of acknowledgement, “What do you want to be called? _Besides_ Widow I mean.”

Her eyes dropped shut again and she heard the sniper shift a bit, then silence. Maybe she didn’t _want_ to say anything. That was fine. She had just freed herself from years of enslavement, it wasn’t surprising that she was used to the callsign. 

“Y’dont have to say anything if-“

“Amélie.”

Rose couldn’t help but faintly smile, and she managed a nod before she forced her eyes open again, looking at her bedmate blearily. 

“H-how long’ve I been out?” 

Amelie’s expression changed to a look of both almost-sadness and nearly-anger as she replied, her voice deceptively _calm_ and gentle. “Two weeks at least. If you want an exact count, ask Lena. I wasn’t conscious when we arrived either, so my count may be incorrect.” 

Rose felt herself beginning to slip away again, and she desperately fought to stay awake, just for a little bit longer. She had missed so _much_...

“Where... where are we...?” She mumbled, and she felt Amélie’s hand move from hers to her cheek, gently _hushing_ her. 

“We are safe. That is all that matters right now. You should sleep, Rose. Recover your strength. I will be here when you next wake, I promise.” 

Rose mumbled incoherently and the last thing she remembered was a cool thumb rubbing gentle circles against her cheek. 

—

Her consciousness returned later, and she immediately wished that it hadn’t. She came back to the sounds of _retching_ and painful burning in her throat. She tasted bile and that only made her heave even _harder_ as cool hands held her upright and rubbed her back.

“It’s alright, Rose, you’re going to be alright.” 

Amélie was sitting next to her, helping her remain upright as she emptied her stomach of whatever had been given to her as she slept, murmuring her best attempts at encouragement and comfort. It was better than nothing and at least Rose knew she was being _cared_ for. 

“Already? She couldn’t keep it down for even an _hour_?” 

Rose normally would have _flinched_ at the sound of a male voice, or tried her best to get _away_ from the person until they could prove that they meant her no harm. Her body was unable to do this in her condition and she felt completely _helpless_. 

“If she can’t keep anything down at all she needs to be kept on an IV until she’s able to stomach food. If we don't, she's going to starve to death, not that she isn’t already about to _do_ that.”

This man sounded tired and she could hear the lack of _hope_ in his voice. _Was she that far gone that he didn’t think she would make it?_

“No, she is _strong_ , she will pull through as long as she gets some form of nourishment. Her body began to shut down because Lena insisted on saving her leg. It was the problem. Now that you have removed it her body won’t have to fight the infection anymore. She just needs rest and for us to be _patient_.”

It was the _most_ Rose had ever heard Amélie speak, and she could hear the _determination_ in her voice. She wasn’t giving up on Rose, and that was _comforting_. 

“If you say so, just keep an eye on her, and let me know if she needs anything or if she gets worse. I need to go check on Lena’s stitches before she realizes what’s about to happen and _bolts_.”

Rose was already starting to slip away again, as Amélie laid her down and brushed her hair out of her eyes, so she barely noticed the pinch as the man set up her intravenous and taped it in place. She only felt the cold sensation as the fluids she _desperately_ needed began to flow through her veins from the needle.

“I won’t give up on you, Rose. You are like me, and you saved my life even though you didn’t know me. I will keep you _safe_ and I will not let the others give up on you, nor will I allow _you_ to give up on yourself. I need you to be strong.”

The former assassin’s voice was fading out, but Rose fought to stay awake for just a moment longer. She couldn’t interact, but she could enjoy the company of another person at least for a short time. She could feel Amélie running her fingers through her hair, laying next to her, her cooler body temperature providing a grounding comfort that kept Rose from getting lost in the fever and the sensations that she knew were ghost pain where her arm and leg used to be. Her low temperature also soothed Rose and despite her struggle to readjust to emotion Amélie seemed to know this, and she was lying next to her, a lot closer to her than before and was making an effort to lay against the injured smaller woman’s side. 

“You are going to survive this, _Chérie_ , I know you are. You are _stronger_ than they think you are.”

Rose heard Amélie’s gentle encouragement, but it was the last thing she heard before she was swallowed up by the darkness once again, the sensations and pain fading away and being replaced by blissful _unconsciousness_.

\--

Rose woke later, she had no idea how _much_ later, she only noticed that it was lighter now and the blinds were open, allowing warm sunlight in to better illuminate the previously darkened room. The sunlight was a balm to her already frayed and confused mind and the warmth helped her still-aching muscles to relax. Her headache that had been so unbearable before had ebbed into a dull, more manageable pounding that she pushed aside with some effort as she lifted her head, blinking the sleep from her eyes. 

She wasn’t familiar with the room she was in, a thought that would unsettle her had she been in better condition. The bed was worn and the mattress creaked and groaned every time she shifted, but it was soft and comfortable. The walls were red and covered with layer upon layer of posters ranging from bands to movie posters to simple pages taken from magazines. The shelves were filled with books and small metal parts, and what looked like unfinished electronic devices. A small desk in the corner was buried in papers that were covered in carefully pencilled designs from everything from prosthetic limbs to complex physical augmentations. The room was clearly used for storage and had been _hastily_ cleaned up, probably for her and Amélie to recover. 

Speaking of…. 

The sniper was asleep, though only _barely_. Every time the mattress shifted she twitched and her eyelids fluttered, and she seemed to be constantly on the verge of jolting awake. But she was sleeping at least, which was better than nothing and a very good sign that she wasn’t beyond recovery. If she were too far gone from the reconditioning and treatment she would be on edge and constantly on the verge of violence until she became too weak to continue functioning. Rose knew all too well how that felt. She had already been through it far too recently. It was only after she crashed and burned that she could start truly recovering, which, now that she thought about it, put her about at the same point on the recovery scale to Widowmaker. Perhaps they would both benefit from each other as they picked up the pieces of their shattered lives.

Rose felt _exhausted_ just being awake for a few minutes, but it didn’t take as much effort to push it aside as it had before, and she didn’t feel as weak or overheated as before. Her attempt to sit up was a lot easier than she expected it to be, but she still took it slow. Her body felt weaker, and she had to support herself on her remaining arm while balancing herself with her remaining leg. It was a lot harder than it looked, and her efforts, unfortunately, were enough to rouse the woman next to her. Amélie shot up with a _gasp_ , her eyes darting all over the room like a feral animal’s, before she noticed Rose looking up at her like a puppy who knew it had done something bad.

Rose wasn’t sure what she had been expecting. To be _scolded_ , perhaps, for waking someone so _desperately_ in need of sleep. She didn’t know the other assassin well enough to know what she should expect, but she thought there would be irritation at least. 

Amélie’s eyes were only annoyed for a moment before they softened from hardened amber to melted honey, and Rose could see tension beginning to melt out of her body as her gaze took in Rose’s expression, and the fact that she was for the most part sitting up, though she was _wobbling_ every time the mattress shifted. 

“...Good morning….” The smaller woman’s voice was _hoarse_ and she began to cough after just those two words. She felt a cool hand on her uninjured shoulder to help steady her, and Rose blinked the tears out of her eyes to see the taller woman offering her some water from a water bottle. She cracked it, and once the smaller woman had scooted up to lean against the headboard she let her take the offered bottle and begin taking small sips from it. 

Rose’s first urge was to take long pulls from the offered water bottle, but the fragmented memories of her throat burning and the smell of vomit made her take it slow, just to be safe. Even so, her stomach _clenched_ painfully just at the _sensation_ of something being inside it, even if it was just water. 

Her nausea must have been visible on her face because Amélie made a soft noise of concern and quickly reached over her, plucking something from the bedside table and popping it open. 

“Here, Lena ran to the drugstore last night and came back with these. They will help you keep the water down.” 

Rose normally wouldn’t take _anything_ offered to her by someone she knew so little about, but her jaw was beginning to _tingle_ and she knew that she was going to bring the water back up in thirty seconds or less, so she made an exception, accepting the small pill and letting it dissolve under her tongue. She leaned back against the headboard and ripped her head towards the ceiling, _squeezing_ her eyes shut as she prayed for her stomach to settle. She pressed her lips tightly together, gripping the blanket tightly as she waited and prayed. 

Thirty seconds passed, and the nausea began to very slowly fade back to a manageable level. She _sagged_ against the headboard and took a few shaky breaths, her eyes falling shut. 

“Better?” Amélie quietly inquired, and Rose swallowed thickly before reply, her voice still a little ragged but better than before. 

“Yeah…. close call though.” 

Amélie made a noise of acknowledgement, her hands quickly finding Rose’s arm and her bandages shoulder to help her lie down again, only retreating when the smaller woman shook her head and slowly swung her leg over the edge of the bed to sit at the edge. 

“Rose…. you aren’t ready to walk yet….” Amélie didn’t seem to have it in her to try to tell the smaller woman what to do, and Rose appreciated how quickly she moved to help her get up if needed.

“Can you help me…? I wanna get out of this room…. _please_?” 

It was the ‘ _please_ ’ that seemed to win the blue-skinned woman over, her arms slipping around Rose’s smaller form and easily lifting her off of the bed. 

“If I get yelled at for moving you…. I am going to _pinch_ you.” Amélie muttered, and Rose couldn’t keep the weak _giggle_ from bubbling out of her throat at the feeble threat coming from such a dangerous woman. 

“It’s worth it. I wanna see the rest of the house.” 

Her justification received no argument as the taller woman rose to her feet and silently padded to the partially open door, carefully slipping through it and out into a dimly lit hallway. It was small, with one other door at the end of the hall and stairs leading down on the remaining side. Amélie made her way to them and Rose could hear voices and the sound of a microwave, as well as the ever increasing sound of humming machinery. 

Amélie quickened her pace once she got to the bottom of the stairs, bee lining for a nearby couch and gently depositing Rose onto it before curling herself up on the other side, leaning her head against the back of the couch and letting her eyes drop shut. 

Once Rose had settled down comfortably she took in the room with interest. The first thing she noticed was that there was _no_ door to close that allowed her to see outside onto the street, and the air was _warm_ like it had been at the university. She could feel the breeze coming in through the door and it made her feel sleepy. The walls were covered in more posters and LED lights that led to a huge setup of monitors and other equipment. The humming was coming from there, and it was a lot louder now that Rose was right next to it. She could see someone in the chair in front of the wall of screens, working away at something and occasionally swivelling the chair from side to side as they worked. 

The brunette startled when Amélie sat up again and looked at the chair with a look of mild irritation. 

“Sombra. You were _dying_ to see her when she was unconscious but you didn’t even notice me bring her down? At least have the manners to greet your guest.”

Rose perked up a little bit when the chair promptly swung around and the woman sitting in it levelled a tired look at her. 

“I’ve been covering for your asses for a _month_ Araña, give me a break.” 

The woman in the chair was about the same height as Rose was, with one side of her head buzzed to show off glowing purple LED implants and the rest left long, dark brown hair with ends dyed a vibrant purple. Her eyes were ringed with shadows and she looked like she was about to pass out. 

“If you’re gonna be down here a while I’ll take my bed back, thank you.” She said as she slowly pushed herself up and stretched, several vertebrae popping audibly, before she stumbled towards the stairs, only pausing to give Rose a clumsy pat on the head as she passed. 

When the smaller woman looked at Amélie confusedly, one hand on her head, the blue-skinned woman was smirking. “Lena wouldn’t let her mess with her hair.” 

Rose settled back against the sofa, before she eased herself down on her side and closed her eyes. The warmth and the flow of air felt nice and the hum of machinery was soothing white noise. It was quiet and once Amélie had moved to lay next to her Rose fully relaxed. She didn’t mind being _wedged_ against the back of the couch, with the other assassin’s arm securely wrapped around her shoulders and the soft puffs of breath against the buzzed side of her head pulling her very quickly into a peaceful sleep.

_This time, there were no nightmares._

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! I’m alive! I kinda of got into a slump because of this story and the trauma I’ve dredged yo while writing it but I think I’ve found my footing! 
> 
> I’ll try not to go so long without posting this time, I promise!
> 
> Remember to comment if you liked what me and Rhitta are doing, so we can hear your opinion and suggestions! I LOVE comments!!!


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